THE YEAR 3000!

Hey! This is my weblog, a tool that I'm going to use in promoting the arts scene in Ottawa as well as my own brand of poetic art. Please feel free to kick up your heels and enjoy the free poetry and notices of Canada's capital arts!

Friday, January 13, 2006

Any means necessary....

Freedom and libertyEmpire and TyrannyConvienance and ExpediencyBy any means necessary

The Barometer is risingCosts and prices multiplyingGood ol boys ain’t too good at math noneWhere’s all this money coming from?

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Happy New Year!

To inaugerate this new year, I have most condescendingly decided to post up my latest poem. Aren't you all so very lucky!

It's a work in progress, but essentially it's a culmination of everything I love and hate about this wacky country of ours. Aww... Canada.

WANTING A PURPOSEBy Billy RuffianDec 31. 2005

I’m wanting a purpose for the island called McNab’s Because the HMS Bellerophon is home to the crabs, Trying to reconcile the reality of this empire of dirt Because all that they left me is a sink and a shirtI regret saying no thanks and embracing the oldAs my father was dressing me up in scarlet and goldI’m walking the old cobble streets of my dayListening to fishwives complain of their sons who are gayUsually forget about all the money I’m missingBecause my ladyfriend keeps on railing about how fags are kissingI tried my hand at some fishing - only caught my old bootsHand me downs from my brother so I’m true to my rootsThe old boy is quite quick with a phraseHe sandblasts you with sarcasm and makes you think that it’s praiseI’m walking the city limits with an eye to the treesBut 1 in 5 citizens keep on asking for no tourists pleaseI’m watching ships passing in beyond the lookoutPlenty of Spanish fritters, but have you seen any trout?Europe is shopping for garbage fish and calling it richButtering and cheesing it up for the plate of a bitchI’m hearing gentleman peanut say bonjour Y’allAs he lets us know we’ve heard the master’s callAnd I’m hearing Poet’s talking about mutual respectBut how many of them are just cocks erect?I’m thinking that it’s ok to plow a single mom in the rearBecause the council of elders have other people to hearMy hands shake so bad when the thirst is on meNobody’s perfect, how sober must I beCan I take advantage of my individual rights?I belong to a group that will put up a fightThey’ll make you place another seat at the tableSo we can draw out another legal fableI’m watching no one care when a child gets rapedThey’re popping up popcorn so they can watch the tapeWhy the hell are out teevee’s so obsessed with homosRappaport’s yelling “sit down sissy, I’m watching Hollywood promos”Collected DVD’s of girls going wild for the 10th time in a rowSome knocking boots, a dead separatist and a hick named BeauNeverland is never coming back and not a moment too soonI’m shooting that fantasy dead with a broken plate and rusty spoonHip Hop’s telling us of the urban jungle and collective faultWhile it arrays itself in diamonds mined from Africa’s vaultHow many black angels do you think don’t have any armsBecause freedom fighters need to have weapons, not farmsI’m wanting a purpose for all these thoughts in my headBut after awhile I’m just glad I ain’t dead.